Convalescing is an odd-looking word. Something about the end not matching the beginning. I am putting a great deal of thought into convalescing, because it's what I'm doing right now.
Convalescing, and blogging, and working from home.
That "one thing at a time" trip I was working on a few weeks ago might be over already, but let's not rush over that particular cliff yet, for convalescing, while an action word (anything can be verbed!), isn't a particularly demanding activity, so I think I can manage that and one other thing at the same time. Like BREATHING and doing something else verb-y, it can be done.
The convalescing is accompanied by much much ibuprofen, which, as my good friend and pharmacist buddy RI Red tells me, helps not just with pain but inflammation and I should be taking it round the clock for a week even if I'm not in pain. So, I am. 800 mg every 6 hours. I want to be done with the convalescing in good style, you see, and in two day when I go back to the office I want to be able to say I feel OK.
I don't feel BAD now, at least not when I'm lying on the couch with my leg properly propped. Once I stand up though, the "WHOMP" of gravity hits and I get some reboundy owies, rather like a pressure headache. It's an interesting thing, it is. My body and all its activities and mysteries fascinate me. Why, yesterday when I asked to see a bit of the vein the doc was removing, she looked at me with a total "WTF?" face, then obligingly held up a little piece. It was disappointingly small, flabby, and pale. I was totally expecting something purple and bloated and gross, but no. All the gravy had been drained from that bit, and it resembled nothing more than a tired old deflated balloon. What a letdown.
Anyhow, that's what I'm up to today. But oh! Today's the day the bandages come off and I get to see what lies beneath! I am excited, and a little nervous. What if I take off the Ace bandages and gauze, only to have all those little incisions pop open, making a sieve of my leg through which I ooze brilliant blood? Could happen, you know. I might be a slow healer. The steri-strips might not have the proper glue on them, or I've been leaking fluid all night and it's dissolved the adhesive.
But prolly not. I'm just not that big a drama queen., and the body KNOWS it. The body is sensible and follows the rules and heals when it ought to and doesn't typically leak a whole lot of anything nor does it break down at random intervals or demand much more than regular infusions of fuel and bourbon, and for that I love it. Yay body!
More news as events progress - and pictures too, of that you can be sure.
Convalescing doesn't necessarily lead to stirring blogging, people. HOWEVER, something really exciting happened yesterday while I was busy getting better!
Yesterday the UPS man delivered unto me a small package. I was clueless as to what was inside. Was it a tiny bomb sent by a cowardly suicide bomber? Was it a wee package of dog poo sent by a practical jokester? Was it perhaps a box of roaches (the bugly kind, not the fun-ish kind) sent to me by some vindictive stalker?
(Note here that I was not thinking along the lines of "Was it a wad of hundred-dollar bills?" or "Was it a solid-gold bar?" or "Was it the key to a safe deposit box in a Swiss bank PLUS plane tickets to get there?", for when surprises show up at my doorstep they're hardly EVER the good kind of surprise.)
Understandably then, I was hesitant to open the box. I cautiously slit open one short side (by doing so I imagined that I could avoid the ignition wire on the bomb), and slid out the contents.
And guess WHAT, y'all? I got an iPod Nano in the mail. Woohoo!
See, the company I work for gives out prezzies every Christmas, and I chose to get a Nano. I'd since FORGOTTEN I'd chosen a nano. I was not expecting a nano, and yet, as surprises go, this was a relatively GREAT one, beating my several bad options all hollow.
A Nano,a Nano, a Nano! How exciting! So much better than dog poo or roaches, better than a bomb or incendiary device, better than a dismembered finger or a piece of an ear. So much better than a baby rattlesnake or prechewed gum or a love note from Charles Manson or a late notice from the credit card company or a bag of pee or a blackmail photo of me taken through my bedroom window while I was thinking about George Clooney! WAY better.
Now, what to put ON it? How much will it hold? How do I work this?
A tip for all my Blogger buddies - spell check only now seems to work if you don't change the font from your template fonts before checking. Weird.
Have a lovely Tuesday folks. I'm counting down to noon and the great unveiling of the new leg. I'm jittery with anticipation, I am.